


got you (like i want you)

by synergenic (Losseflame)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Finn doesn't mind so much, I've decided to embrace this burgeoning fandom Thing, Poe gets a lil mouthy, Porn with Feelings, there's been this recent influx of fics in which Poe rides Finn all power-bottomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:16:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5694382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Losseflame/pseuds/synergenic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing with Finn is that he's damaged, and yeah, so is Poe, so is everyone in the Resistance, but Finn is damaged in that way where it's almost forgettable until it really, really isn't, and then Poe finds himself in a position where he's holding a person's fragile, deeply conditioned psyche in his highly under-qualified hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	got you (like i want you)

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song "shoulda known" by atmosphere, as that was playing on repeat as i was writing this

Finn's lips part then his eyes widen then his stomach clenches, and his hips don't thrust before a slow sweet moan reverberates in his chest. He wants to, Poe can tell that he wants to, but he doesn't, because Poe hasn't told him he can yet. In the last moment, the sound slides into Poe's name and there are many things about sex with Finn that Poe enjoys, many things that Poe adores, but this has to be it. The Thing, above all others, that makes Poe fucking _desperate_ for it. It's a work of godsdamned art, the way Finn looks at him when he's taken it down to the hilt, and Poe has met men who are into being ridden, has ridden many of said men, there just hasn't been anyone who has wanted it quite like Finn, all open-mouthed and eager.

"Yeah, sweetheart? This good?" He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, with a warm clench down as he grinds back, and he gets a small slip of control in reward for his efforts. Finn's hips jerk up, a sudden thrust Poe can feel in his throat and strong hands grip Poe's hips hard enough that he just _knows_ there'll be faint bruises there later tonight. Finn might - and here Poe's hips stutter, because just the thought of this boy leaves Poe hot and aching for it - Finn might trace those bruises with his tongue later, whispering apologies he's learning not to mean so much, and then he might fuck Poe again, hard and fast from behind. He's young in the way Poe isn't anymore, getting hard easy as you please with a refractory period that leaves Poe, most nights, biting the pillow and scrabbling at the sheets, his soft cock drooling out a third sharp-edged orgasm as Finn drags him back onto excited, touch-starved thrusts. Tonight, though, they've just started. Tonight, Finn is stretched out dark and pretty beneath him, watching Poe like he's some divine creature as he tenses his thighs and braces his hands on Finn's chest and drags _up_ before he pushes himself back down again.

"Yeah," Finn says, fingers flexing on Poe's ass. It's so damn considerate, how hard Finn's trying to avoid scoring the skin, and Poe wriggles back, one hand rising to trace Finn's lips. Finn's cock is so _there_ , so _present_ , a slow-burn stretch that leaves him cleaved open and vulnerable and full to the brim of Finn, till every movement and small shift of weight is felt in ripples throughout his body. It's pressure and heat, down deep in his bowels and traveling up through his spinal cord and somehow loosening him, forcing him so wide he has no choice but to relax into the intrusion.

Poe fucking loves this, has enjoyed a good dick up his ass ever since his curious fingers first found his prostate, years and years ago, loves the tight tension in the core of him that flutters around relentless fullness, inescapable and instinctual. It's the same high he gets from barrel rolling between stars, being dick-drunk, the burn in his thighs and his throat and the oppressive, demanding pleasure that obliterates the need for higher thought. Everything narrows down to the feeling of Finn sliding against his insides, the untouched ache of his cock, the sticky press of Finn's thighs at his back and the damp curve of Finn's hips, cradling Poe's ass as he bottoms out.

The fingers in Finn's mouth are almost forgotten, secondary to the blaze starting between Poe's hips, forcing them forward in short movements he quells with squeezed thighs and deeps breath and the meditative patience he'd had to learn before his mother had allowed him to _breath_ in the presence of a ship's controls. Which is insane, entirely off the fucking wall, because Finn's mouth is a blessing and the things he can do with it would alter the very fabric of the universe if Poe were willing to share.

"I love the way you feel inside of me," Poe whines, fucking _whines_ , and he'd be thoroughly upset with himself if he could string two critical thoughts together. But instead it's a rush of words, so quick Poe stumbles on them, Finn sucking on his fingers with something hungry and pleading in his eyes as he speaks and Finn wants him so _badly_ , by the stars, no one has ever wanted Poe the way Finn does. "Fuck, I love the way you fill me up, Finn, you're so fucking _thick_ , no one's ever fucked me as good as you, as deep or as hard."

Finn grunts, his hips pistoning up and throwing Poe off balance and he has to take his fingers out of Finn's mouth just to avoid jamming them directly into Fin's uvula, which would put a damper on the evening's proceedings.

"Hey, Finn, babe, shhh." Poe leans over him, kisses him deep and slow with long languid licks and soft nips and gentle, stroking fingers, till Finn's stopped jerking underneath him, trying to put enough force behind his thrusts to make Poe bounce. He could, if he wanted to. Poe could sit back and brace his hands on the mattress and let Finn buck and grip tight and grind, ride the waves of urgent movement to orgasm, but -

They've just started. Poe has _plans_.

"Just be still for me. Can you do that?" he murmurs, and Finn's weak for Poe's voice, for the way Poe licks his words into Finn's jaw and over his hickeys. "Can you be good and quiet and let me ride your cock?"

Finn whimpers, his eyes closing and his hands flying up to grip the fabric on either side of his head, and his hips still quick and vicious, his body going rigid under Poe's. "I can be good," he rasps, tucking his face against his arm and _shit_ , Poe didn't mean to do that.

The thing with Finn is that he's damaged, and yeah, so is Poe, so is everyone in the Resistance, but Finn is damaged in that way where it's almost forgettable until it really, really isn't, and then Poe finds himself in a position where he's holding a person's fragile, deeply conditioned psyche in his highly under-qualified hands.

"Yeah, sweetheart, you _are_ , you're so good for me," Poe coos, nuzzling Finn's cheek, reaching up to grab Finn's hands and guide them to his hips again. They grip Poe's ass, shyly, before skating up to his waist, and Poe huffs, grips one of Finn's hands and places it very deliberately over an asscheek. He curls his fingers over Finn's, encouraging the curious squeeze, sighing into it and rolling his head back. "You're so good, I love you so much," he says, and Finn gasps, shocked like it's the first time whenever Poe says it. "I love you so fucking much and I just want you to lie back and let me ride you, sweetheart, I just want to ride your cock until I have no choice but to come on it."

"Oh, stars, _Poe_ ," Finn grinds out, eyes wide and almost blind where they've latched onto Poe's. His hips are still rocking, little movements that manage to rub right up against Poe's prostate, but his feet aren't braced against the mattress and he isn't giving it to Poe, not really, not the way he could if he wanted to. They're thoughtless, the tiny thrusts, as instinctual as scratching the itch on your elbow, and Poe decides to give him this one. Four stars for effort.

"Yeah, babe, just like that, just like what you're doing now," Poe sighs, then returns his hands to Finn's chest, bracing his palms and digging his fingers into the meat of muscle. Finn's skin is so much _darker_ than Poe's, a gorgeous godsdamned brown, and it's thrown into such relief by the sight of Poe's palm over his heart, light russet overlaying the deep shade of fertile earth. "Just like that, you're doing perfect."

The words warp as he says them, drawn long by the flare of pleasure that starts low behind his balls and spirals outward. He pushes himself up, then down, then he rolls his hips before he starts again, over and over as Finn bites his lip swollen, tracking every minute shift of Poe's weight with scouring eyes. His dick twitches, and Poe feels it all the way to his tongue, a tight, scalding ball of pressure solidifying in the base of his cock and pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

"I - Poe, please, I'm so -" Finn stutters, hands clawing at Poe's back and he hisses his victory, so fucking pleased that Finn is too caught up in the feeling Poe's giving him to give a damn if he scratches Poe up a bit.

"Yes," Poe spits, shudders when Finn's fingers dig into the meat of his ass. "Fuck, _yes_ , Finn, you fuck me so good, you give it to me like a fucking pro. I love your cock, I love how it tastes, I love how it feels when it's splitting me open -"

" _Poe_ ," Finn gasps, like it's prayer, "Poe, Poe, please, I want - please."

He's thrusting in earnest, now, hands at Poe's waist and arms flexing as he picks Poe up then tugs him back down again, hard and loud and _obscene_. The sound it makes when Finn drags him onto an upward thrust makes Poe feel hot and used, the toe-curling kind of used Poe's been tiptoeing around asking for, and Poe could take control again, ask Finn to grip the headboard and slow down and let Poe _take care_ of him, just for a little bit, but Poe is in a losing battle with his own tendency towards whorishness, and it's not degrading when it's to himself inside his own head, shut up, Pava.

"Whatever you want," Poe groans, and he sounds, he muses distantly, gutted, wretched, absolutely ruined. "I'm yours, fuck, do whatever you fucking want with me, I'll take it, I'll take all of it."

"Poe," Finn grits out, stomach tensing, curling up till his forehead is pressed to Poe's chest. He braces his feet against the mattress, and Poe only has time to register what that shift in weight meant, only has time to grip Finn's shoulders and think _oh fuck_ -

Finn hammers into him, holds him still with an iron grip on his waist and just fucking _goes_ , sharp hard thrusts upward. Poe can hear himself through the ringing in his ears, hears the loud moans hitched in time with Finn's rough movements, and there aren't even words in there anymore, just Finn's name mingling with the occasional curse.

"Yeah," Finn's grunting, "Yeah, Poe, you want it."

"I want it," Poe shudders, hysterical, almost, because he's close, he's so fucking close and all there is, is the rough drag of Finn's cock as it leaves him, the demanding burn as it forces its way back inside. He'd have come ages ago if he could just manage to get his hand on his cock, but it's wedged awkwardly between them and Finn is moving too quick and too strong for Poe to finagle his way to it. So instead the head catches on the skin of Finn's stomach, every so often, not enough to let him come but just enough to remind him that, surprise, not all pleasure comes from his ass, that there is a sensitive, blood-swollen appendage fucking _burning_ with its need to be touched nestled between his thighs. "I want it all, whatever you give me, I want it so bad, please, Finn, fucking please."

"Do you want me to make you come," and it’s rushed out all shy and quick, too stilted, but it makes Poe clench down and moan because Finn is still so _cautious_ about exploring what he likes, whenever he does this - asks a question, manoeuvres Poe into a certain position - it hits Poe like blaster fire.

"Yeah, babe, yeah, please," Poe breathes, and Finn nods once, like he's accepting a mission, before he adjusts his grip on Poe's hips and changes the angle of his thrusts. And it's _perfect_ , it makes the head of Finn's cock press up against Poe's prostate with every push inside, and Poe honestly, genuinely thinks _I'm going to die_ when Finn spreads his palm over the expanse between Poe's hipbones and starts rubbing slow circles into his skin with hot, heavy pressure. Poe's talked about coming untouched, the theory of it, multiple times in the sessions that follow Finn's occasional bout of curiosity in human sexuality, but he's talked about it in the abstract way that always comes with the tagline of: it is not the easiest sexual feat to accomplish. It isn't a big deal if it is never accomplished at all.

Finn has, apparently, decided to take that as a challenge.

"Oh," Poe gasps. "Oh, oh, fuck, Finn, fuck, yeah, I'm so close, I'm so fucking close, Finn -"

"Yeah," Finn mutters, leans back with his eyes fixed onto Poe's cock with such _focus_ , he's so damn focused on getting Poe off and that, the intensity and the expectation, that's what does it.

"Shit," Poe chokes, and then it's a supernova, a bright wave of solar energy starting from low and deep between his hips and burning him up as it flares outward, licking along his muscles and his cock _seizes_ , twitches and drools and spatters Finn's stomach in thick, hot stripes. "Ah, ah, _Finn_."

Finn pushes his face into Poe's clavicle and _bites_ as something liquid and hot seeps into Poe's insides, and Poe arches his back, reminding himself to savour the feeling of Finn twitching spasmodically as he comes. The post-orgasmic haze almost irritates him, now, for how it makes it harder to focus on the sounds Finn makes, the way Finn shifts against him, and Poe sighs, rocking his hips and squeezing Finn through the juddering aftershocks.

"Poe," Finn breathes, amazed, and Poe laughs.

"I had plans," he gasps out, unable to stop himself from slumping into Finn's side. Finn adjusts them till Poe is tucked under his arm, his head pillowed on Finn's chest, and Poe smiles when Finn noses at his hair. Fingertips gently, ever so gently, reach between Poe's legs and catch the rim of Poe's hole, running a careful, exploratory circle around the area. Poe sighs and grinds back onto the touch.

"Did I ruin them?" Finn asks, and it's _teasing_ , Finn is being _playful_ with him. Poe may just die. "Your plans?"

And Poe has also discussed multiple orgasms, in that same abstract way he did coming untouched, and that seems to be Finn's next great challenge, if the way he's brushing up against Poe's prostate all cautious and curious is any indication.

"I'm sure I can find the opportunity to try again soon," Poe sighs, and Finn laughs, gentle and reverent, as he turns Poe onto his stomach.

"I'm sure you can," says Finn, and it sounds like a promise.

**Author's Note:**

> feeding the author is always appreciated.


End file.
